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"O thou, that for our sins didst take
A human form, and humbly make
Thy home on earth;
Thou, that to thy divinity
A human nature didst ally
"And in that form didst suffer here
By thy redeeming grace alone,
As thus the dying warrior prayed,
Upon his mind;
Encircled by his family,
Watched by affection's gentle eye
So soft and kind:
His soul to Him, who gave it, rɔse;
God lead it to its long repose,
Its glorious rest!
And, though the warrior's sun has set,
*This poem of Manrique is a great favorite in Spain. No less than four poetic Glosses, or running commen. taries, upon it have been published, no one of which, however, possesses great poetic merit. That of the Car thusian monk, Rodrigo de Valdepenas, is the best. It is known as the Glosa del Cartujo. There is also a prose Commentary by Luis de Aranda.
The following stanzas of the poem were found in the author's pocket, after his death on the field of battle:
"O World! so few the years we live,
Would that the life which thou dost give
Were life indeed!
Alas! thy sorrows fall so fast,
Our happiest hour is when at last
The soul is freed.
"Our days are covered o'er with grief,
And sorrows neither few nor brief
Veil all in gloom;
Left desolate of real good,
Within this cheerless solitude
"Thy pilgrimage begins in tears
And ends in bitter doubts and tears
Or dark despair;
Midway so many toils appear,
That he who lingers longest here
Knows most of care.
"Thy goods are bought with many a groan
And weary hearts;
Fleet-footed is the approach of wor
That mad'st thy crook from the accursed tree, On which thy powerful arms were stretched so long!
Lead me to mercy's ever-flowing fountains; For thou my shepherd, guard, and guide shalt be;
I will obey thy voice, and wait to see
Thy feet all beautiful upon the mountains.